Werewolves, leeches and other spawns
by DocGreyson
Summary: Series of experimental scenes as a self-indulgent pseudo-literary exercise. The universe of Twilight beyond the usual characters. Oneshots not related to each other, just common universe.
1. Steve and the mutt

**Disclaimer** : The entire universe in which these stories unfold belongs to Stephanie Meyer, as well as the characters that appear.

* * *

 **Steve and the mutt**

– It's confusing, you know? And hard. Maybe that means I'm not able to reproduce? That there is nothing in me, in my genes, that is worth transmitting? Am I really that useless?

– We have already discussed this. You worry too much. We're okay, aren't we? It's nice, it's fun. It is right. As it should be. What's the problem? After all, that genetic crap it's just a theory, nobody knows how imprinting happens. Not even everyone thinks it the same.

– I don't know. What other explanation can there be? Why would it happen then? You have to admit it sounds convincing.

– Really doggy, you are a bunch of -almost immortal- supermen hosting the spirits of magical animals who transcend time and reality, and you limit that to a purely sexual issue?

– You know it's not like this.

– Of course it is.

– No. Nobody is talking about sex. These wolfish spirits are not earthly beings. Even if they influence our passions, they are alien to them. They are natural spirits.

– And isn't sex something natural?

– Now you're just turning the conversation around.

– None of that, young man. We are talking about the same thing. When you speak of that nature, aren't you implying that it's limited to the natural character of reproduction? Well, I'm sorry I have to be the one to unveil it, sex is the only known and natural way in which mammals can reproduce.

– I still can't see how that makes the beliefs of my folks less valid. And I refuse to see them as a matter of pure sex.

– Look, I'm not trying to taint your beautiful concept of procreation. But I can't believe that the disembodied spirits that inhabit your flesh are thinking in terms of mere reproduction. Is it really their main interest? I hope not.

– Dude, that's not what I'm saying. They're still wolves, right? They should be guided by instinct, which is what leads us to imprinting.

– The creation of a link, as far as we know, unbreakable. Beyond the individual, capricious and unpredictable. A union so deep that it makes the wolf and the object of the imprinting depending of each other. Why something so strong and complex, something we know so little about, can not serve another purpose? Forget about sex, its utility as a genetic compass is undeniable, but why unite two individuals so profoundly if it's not for even higher purposes?

– Don't you think that "higher purposes" is a bit over the top? After all, it is the easiest way to ensure that the blood stays strong and the lycanthrope gene is transmitted.

– After the huge population rise of wolves in recent years I think it has become clear that such "genetic accuracy" is not necessary to transmit lycanthropy, and in fact if it only works once lycanthropy is activated, it would have been impossible for the wolves to reach our days. It may not be used for "higher purposes" but of different purposes than effective breeding.

– It is a characteristic of the wolves, of the pack, of course it doesn't appear without the transformation.

– Yes, here i've been not very clever.

– Besides, who's saying it can't work for both purposes? Even if it's as you say, wouldn't it be more practical with a woman, so that she can also have offspring?

– Then maybe it doesn't depend on what the pack needs, or what the wolf can offer to its imprint.

– I don't understand.

– That it is ridiculous to think that you are broken because your imprint does not correspond to what you believe (I repeat, you believe, you don't know) about who you should imprint on. What if the reason for this is not related to the needs of the pack, but those of the imprint? What if it doesn't depend on your reproductive possibilities, but acts as a link, to join one herd with another herd as a contract, or for what the imprinting can offer to the herd? Why question a timeless event beyond our understanding, instead of rethinking our beliefs about it?

– That ... well, it makes sense. I think.

– Yes. And besides that, it allows us to enjoy the rest of the afternoon without unnecessary dramas.

– You're a dick.

– But the ancestral spirits that decide our destinies believe that you need me. At least to darn your clothes, you gang of irascible and careless mutts. So let me be.

– Where did you learn to sew like that? You're better than Emily. And my mother.

– In the army.

– What?

– It was useful, almost necessary. And it relaxes me.

– Have you been in the army? Really?

– Oh, yeah. I served for some time, in the air force, humanitarian aid.

– How was it?

– Sometimes fun, usually just cold and weird. Nothing I intend to repeat, although I've learned some interesting things there.

– Oh, wasn't your condition a problem?

– Tricky question, considering that I share my "condition" with nearly ten percent of the population and rising; and yours is reduced to a handful of children and old women in a town with fewer inhabitants than my last neighborhood.

– Fuck, man, don't be so sensitive. It's just weird, so many guys together so long, it makes you think that some uncomfortable situation should have...happened?

– Well, it didn't, _nada_. Everything is a matter of habit. And after all, it's not that I'm attracted to every man I see, as you well know.

– Oh, shut up, I don't want to remember.

– Anyway, I'm not angry. I'm sorry for being so touchy.

– At first it was one of the things that disturbed me about you, you know?

– I already told you I'm sorry. I am not good at being careful, and less with words.

– No, no, not that you're an asshole. I can live with it, as always. I mean, the fact that you didn't desire me. You're an adult, fully developed and functional and, well, I considered myself quite attractive, so why not? Even after sensing what I felt when I saw you the pack couldn't believe it. You were the first adult to sexualy reject his wolf partner after imprinting.

– I'm sorry. That was not what I needed of you.

– Don't apologize. In fact, it was kind of a relief. An insulting relief. That was what confused me the most. I was angry and hurt because you were not attracted to me at all, but relieved at the same time. I would've done what you asked me to. I still would. Willingly. But I know it's something I wouldn't do if not for this magical union of us. I'm still attracted only to women.

– I'd never fuck with someone who does not like to fuck with men. Because I'm a man and all that. I hope it makes you feel better to know that it's not just that you're not my type.

– Not really. But I'm glad that I can still be myself, even though I know I'd be just as happy being a zombie with no will like the others.

– I'd like to claim my share of the merit here. It sure has to do with me not liking zombies outside the cinema.

– Thanks then, prick.

– No problem, bud.

– I must say that your perfect immovable values hasn't always been as perfect as you'd like.

– I know, I'm not proud.

– When Paul, Jared or Sam are lost in the desire of their lovers is uncomfortable, but we can take it. With Quil, there are no such problems. But when you, for whatever reason, thought just for a second that you needed me in the same way, you drove the pack crazy. Remember that they think what I think. And I think what you need.

– Yeah, well, I'm human. Who can blame me when I need some warm? And if there is something that you Quileutes don't lack is warm. Also, as much as I consciously reject it, my subconscious knows that you wouldn't reject me and you'd have as much fun as me.

– Maybe. But not the rest of the pack.

– Well, screw them. New era, new rules.

* * *

First picture. Deputy Steve, a co-worker of Charlie Swan,gets imprinted by one of the young Quileute. I use it as an excuse to think in a somewhat superficial way the nature of lupine imprinting. As a first challenge, the text is developed only through dialogue. All kinds of criticism are accepted, the more they hurt the better, the goal of these terrible creatures that I am hanging in here is helping me to improve my writing and share interesting ideas.


	2. Surprise, little thing

**Surprise, you little thing**

I didn't see him coming. As soon as I turned around, I saw his open eyes, red and round like pomegranates. A second later my back hits the ground and his knees on either side of my hips prevent me from moving. I can't see how he's cut me, but after a sharp pain in my chest I feel the smell of my blood. Then a shoulder, then a cheek, If I'm not dizzy is because the panic has invaded me. I hit him, unsuccessfully, only to get him to imprison my wrists with only one of his hands. With the other He's still getting my shirt torn on and once is shattered he nails, maybe unconsciously, his nails on my waist. The creature babbles under his breath as he licks the delicate stream of blood that's coming out of my chest with every of his squeezes. I grasp some of his words, and in my madness for postponing my death I screw up everything. As I never did.

– This. You don't want that. To do that. – I mumble quietly, we both can hear how pathetic I sound. He has only begun to drain my blood but I already feel faint.

He stops struggling against me and keeps me still holding my wrists, pais attention and raises his head. He seems to be listening and is not drinking from my chest anymore, so I stop thrashing against his grip.

– I don't? Tell me why I shouldn't want, show me, you little thing.

I swallow hard and clear my throat a little before continuing, making time to think out something. Even so my nerves betray me and as soon as I start talking the words came out like a croak.

– You said, you said before – I murmur, running over, and I clear my voice again - that you'd never smelled anything like me, right? – He raises an eyebrow, not really sure, but nods anyway. – Why lose that, then? Don't kill me, don't, if I die, the delicacy will disappear, right? But if I live, you'll have it until I rot. Drink as much as you want, but let me live.

As I speak he draws a smile, and before I'm done with my shitty speech he sits on my stomach with his knees imprisoning my waist, getting comfortable.

– Are you suggesting a deal? Is that what you're saying? – His face contorts in a mocking smile that makes him look like an ugly feline.

– Yes! – I exclaimed lamely. – That's it, a deal. Let me live, drink as much as you want.

– Tomorrow, here, same time. Eat fruit, I like the smell of grapes.

The agreement is settled, he smiles again, takes a last long sip to the wound on my shoulder that makes me cry out in pain and vanishes.

* * *

 _Second image_. A young man finds a predator with a particular affinity with his blood. Why take it all at once when you can have the most delicious blood in the world for at least 50 more years? Like a glass with autofill, as long as you do not finish it completely.


End file.
